


Path to Paradise, Road to Ruin

by nilolay



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending, Epic Poetry, Inspired by Hadestown, Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Poetry, Rhyming, Song Lyrics, Spoilery references through to the end of Season 5, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-08-23 12:30:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilolay/pseuds/nilolay
Summary: A David/Patrick tale inspired by Greek mythology.Hear a tale of what it means to trust your heartOf an artist and his love, a work of artOf a singer and a man who was a songAnd the fears and frets that let it all go wrong





	Path to Paradise, Road to Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> For notes, please see the Annotated Edition: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qC4o4gV6KTHxVBl7ic2Q4XzL6AgwHeeKoWeodS4kyJM/edit?usp=sharing

_*_

_Here is a story first told way back when,_

_It has much to teach when we tell it again -_

_ What tragedies rise when minds lead us astray. _

_A sad song it is, but we sing anyway. _

_ Of Patrick, the artist: his heart was so pure _

_ His music was magic, his mind was unsure. _

_ His father was famous, and famously sunny _

_ Godlike, he attracted good fortune and money. _

_ “Apollo & Calliope”, world-adored band _

_ His father and mother sang best hand-in-hand. _

_ He wasn’t like them, though his talent shone bright _

_ For him, nothing worthy was gained without fight. _

_ Apollo was free of cares, happy to trust _

_ He’d revel in joy, leave the world to adjust. _

_ Patrick was cautious, made life more restrictive, _

_ Knew that the world could be tricksy, vindictive. _

_ He studied the game, tried to master the rules - _

_ The gentle were often exploited for fools. _

_ His music would fade as he took up his books, _

_ For fine print and spreadsheets could guard him from crooks. _

_ * _

_ And now hear of David, whose beauty was rare _

_ He hated the vulgar and cherished the fair. _

_ With family fortune, he fancied fine things _

_ His elegant hands displayed four silver rings. _

_ This all was a pretense, a shell prone to crack, _

_ To shield it he painted it grey, white and black. _

_ A cloaking of sweaters enshrouded his core, _

_ His own softness safe ‘neath the armour he wore. _

_ Money and safety were always a given, _

_ Ever well fed with a fine house to live in. _

_ He thought everything that he needed, he had _

_ He wouldn’t accept that his heart was yet sad. _

_ Alone in his bed it would ache with desire- _

_ Thread count was high, but his heart’s hopes were higher. _

_ He sought people out who could make him feel good _

_ They’d ask him to give them the world, and he would. _

_ * _

_ Our two lovers met: David heard Patrick sing _

_ Connection was instant, that magical thing. _

_ They saw in each other the spark of a flame, _

_ Their worlds far apart but their souls were the same. _

_ But romance was hindered by issues of each, _

_ Attraction is easy, hearts harder to reach. _

_ Patrick too cautious to risk taking action, _

_ David believing that love meant transaction. _

_ Musicians are poor, David had to assume _

_ So while Patrick studied he shared David’s room _

_ More than trade - bed warmed for roof overhead - _

_ Love lived there too, but it had not been said. _

_ * _

_ Our story starts: Into a storm David’s tossed: _

_ Betrayed by his banker, his fortune is lost. _

_ With Patrick away on a trip for his class, _

_ Alone David learns of this snake in the grass. _

_ Beloved belongings are taken away, _

_ His house repossessed, he’ll have nowhere to stay. _

_ It’s stunningly quick how his world crashes down _

_ But left for him still is the deed to a town. _

_ Boxed up he finds it and memories flood back, _

_ From when as teen he wore black, black and black. _

_ The purchase was strange, they’d seemed eager to sell _

_ But goth kids so rich can’t resist buying Hell. _

_ Part of the deed was an offer explicit: _

_ Free bed and board if he ever did visit. _

_ The paperwork listed a number to call- _

_ It seems like a lifeline now he’s lost it all. _

_ He’s desolate, desperate, it’s all he’s got left. _

_ Aside from some clothing, he’s wholly bereft. _

_ Flexing his hands through his sweater’s soft fabric, _

_ Inside, a voice begs him: “But what about Patrick?” _

_ Protecting that man was the source of his pride, _

_ What good could he be if he couldn’t provide? _

_ It killed him to leave, but what else could he do? _

_ Patrick could easily find someone new. _

_ “Dear Patrick”, he wrote, Dearest? no, that’s too much, _

_ The rest was composed with a cool, detached touch. _

_ He wrote out the truth, and closed with goodbye, _

_ Then kissed Patrick’s name, and let out a sigh. _

_ Resolved that he must go, and do so alone, _

_ He folded the letter, then picked up his phone, _

_ Blocked Patrick’s number to keep him from calling, _

_ Closed his eyes tightly to keep tears from falling, _

_ Then taking a slow breath he dialled Hell’s line. _

_ The voice sounded crackled, but cheerfully benign _

_ “A pleasure to hear from you, holder of deed.” _

_ He passed on directions that David would need. _

_ * _

_ Alone at a dock a rough ferryman waited _

_ Nodding as David, unsure, hesitated: _

_ “Yes, I am your guide if it’s Hell that you seek. _

_ We’ll drift down the _ _unlovely swamp_ _ that’s Styx Creek.” _

_ He boarded the boat and the journey was strange _

_ He barely would blink and the landscape would change. _

_ They stopped, and he clambered out over the bow. _

_ Time had to have passed, but he couldn’t say how. _

_ No sooner he stood than he heard a call: “Dave!” _

_ “It’s David,” he sighed, turned, and saw a man wave. _

_ Grotesque and giddy, and void of all charm _

_ “Roland,” he grinned as he clapped David’s arm. _

_ “So you own this place, huh?” He sucked on his teeth, _

_ Then wheezed a laugh- “Damn! Shoulda brought you a wreath! _

_ I’m the mayor- family title, no glory. _

_ Hades, our name. Like the guy from the story.” _

_ He winked, as though this were a fun interaction _

_ David winced, looking sideward for distraction. _

_ “That’s not…?” he swept his hand where his eyes fell, _

_ The rundown old sign called it ‘Hell’s Own Motel’. _

_ “Your lodgings, monsieur? Yeah, chief, that’s your new home! _

_ There’s plenty to see, so, ah, feel free to roam.” _

_ His eyes went black. David’s, pressed shut, couldn’t tell. _

_ Hades flung a key and smiled: “Welcome to Hell.” _

_ * _

_ Patrick’s heart sank when the first phone call failed, _

_ And stayed in its pit ’til the truth was unveiled. _

_ In panic he’d rushed home and found it stripped bare, _

_ All empty but for his guitar on a chair. _

_ He’d left it neglected, so long since he’d played _

_ Yet salvaged by David from government raid. _

_ The letter upon it spelled out the sad tale, _

_ The naked walls echoed his weak, wretched wail. _

_ His heart began beating a low, quick tattoo _

_ He knew there was only one thing he would do _

_ He’d find this strange town to which David had fled _

_ Trawling the web, he linked thread to dark thread. _

_ * _

_ The motel was grimy and tacky and small _

_ The state of the twin bed made David’s skin crawl. _

_ With hands on his wide mouth, he felt his throat quake _

_ He couldn’t stay here. He’d made such a mistake. _

_ But efforts to reach out could make no connection, _

_ Shut out from the wide world by dreadful reception. _

_ Panic arose and his breathing grew thinner, _

_ Then shocked by a knock, he was summoned to dinner. _

_ Soon Roland’s wife welcomed him into their house _

_ Bright flowers of spring on her synthetic blouse. _

_ Fair wavy hair bounced as she smiled with ease _

_ And served up an abomination of cheese. _

_ With Roland’s foul coarseness and Jocelyn’s sweet care, _

_ “Disturbing,” was David’s first thought of the pair. _

_ But glances between them assured it was known, _

_That both were joined by love, and by love alone. _

_ The sight of them made David’s whole body itch _

_ Or was it the décor? He couldn’t tell which. _

_ Inane vulgar chattering made his head ache, _

_ Uncertain how much more torture he could take. _

_ But it would continue, as night turned to day _

_ And only grew stronger the longer he’d stay. _

_ He met still more townsfolk and they showed him scorn, _

_ A fish out of water, alone and forlorn. _

_ * _

_ What Patrick discovered showed something was weird, _

_ The rumours of once-rich folk long disappeared _

_ The claims that they’d purchased a deed to this place, _

_ But of Hell no map showed so much as a trace. _

_ A man on a forum who called himself “Ray” _

_ Claimed inside knowledge and had much to say _

_ Of Hades, an unworldly, ego-led king _

_ Who prided his realm and saw wealth as a sin. _

_ He’d dangle the deeds out like rich person bait _

_ They’d all find it funny, which fed bitter hate _

_ The gall of these rich folk to lay casual claim, _

_ To want to own what to them was but a name. _

_ Patrick’s fears proven: his love had been scammed, _

_ And based on this strange set of facts, he was damned. _

_ All he discovered grew darker and stranger, _

_ Not just gone, David was clearly in danger. _

_ His heart beat still stronger with furious blood _

_ ’Til all he could hear was an incessant thud. _

_ The sound stirred his soul, an intense primal force _

_ It took him a moment to realise its source. _

_ Long dormant his music lay under his skin _

_ Now woken by need, crying out from within. _

_ Compelled so, he seized his guitar, firmly strummed, _

_ And sang to the beat that his desperate heart drummed. _

_ He stepped out the door of the home they had shared, _

_ Knew no way to Hell, but he did not feel scared. _

_Inflamed so by love, urged by deepest despair,_

_ His music, by magic, would guide the way there. _

_ He cried: _ _“Heaven help me, I’m going to Hell” _

_ But help he’d long had in the gift of art’s spell. _

_ Melody made maps and rhythm revealed roads, _

_ Enemies and obstacles shrunk from love’s odes. _

_He sang of his David wherever he came,_

_Each valley and forest would learn his love’s name._

_Through oceans and puddles, where wild water flows,_

_Each river and grove knows the name David Rose._

_ So onward he journeyed, but gods know how long, _

_ The trees he passed growing along with his song. _

_ Crescendo met climax on cresting a hill, _

_ Bright sun warmed the peak, but he stilled with a chill. _

_ For here was the post of the three-headed snake. _

_ Its warning was rattled by menacing shake. _

_ A loyal pet serpent who guards this point well _

_ Through him none has breached yet the borders of Hell. _

_ But none had brought music to drown his vile hiss, _

_ The snake had not yet faced a magic like this. _

_ Enchanted, the dark birds which flew overhead _

_ Soon silenced their own song to listen instead. _

_ The music he sang for them didn’t use words, _

_ Fine lyrics don’t mean much to snakes or to birds. _

_ Rather they heard what his pure voice could do _

_ Suffice it to say that it sounded like ‘You.’ _

_ Enchanted by sweet tones, the snake slunk back down _

_ And Patrick was free to descend to the town. _

_ The pull in his chest that had led to this place _

_ Now dragged him with haste to a door, and a face. _

_ High brows of black framed a stare of pure awe _

_ Though lips, open slack, were what Patrick first saw. _

_ He turned his eyes up and their shared gaze was fierce _

_ Enraptured in silence that David would pierce. _

_ “I’m sorry,” was soft, “I’m so sorry,” through tears. _

_ “Don’t. I don’t blame you - I know all your fears. _

_ Are you okay, David?” with earnest concern, _

_ A shaken “No. Why did you come?” in return. _

_ “I love y-” — the word was consumed in a kiss, _

_ Despair dissolving to sweet agonised bliss. _

_ As far as they had been, so near they were now, _

_ Embraced in fierce closeness and sealed with that vow— _

_ “I love you,” breathed David when finally they broke, _

_ “I love you,” repeated, was all that they spoke _

_ As knees buckled under and breath quivered quick _

_ As pulses drummed thunder and sweat made skin slick, _

_ As desperate hands grasped and keen answers were found, _

_ As clashing chests gasped and impassioned hips ground, _

_ As sighs and shed tears melted into the bed, _

_ “I love you,” “I love you,” was all that they said. _

_ * _

_ “Knock knock!” came a voice; there a smiling man stood. _

_ He bent through the doorway, “Oh here you are! Good! _

_ “So, Roland will speak with you shortly. He knows. _

_ He’ll see you at Town Hall. Door open or closed?” _

_ Ray left and the lovers stared, cheeks burning hot. _

_ “Wait, what’s going on? Roland knows about what?” _

_ “Me, David, I’m guessing he knows that I’m here.” _

_ “What-?” -kiss- “I know. Come. I’ll make it all clear.” _

_ In no time at all they were facing the mayor _

_ He smiled, but tension was crackling the air. _

_ “So, Pat, you’ve come to see our little nation _

_ Strange- don’t recall sending your invitation.” _

_ He grimaced through words like his threats were but jests: _

_ “We don’t take too kindly to unbidden guests.” _

_ Bold Patrick stood firm, calmly started to speak: _

_“I’ve not come to explore, only David I seek._

_ If you give him leave, then we’ll both be away.” _

_ Roland laughed sharp: “That’s so cute, but no way.” _

_ “Then show me his deed, let me read it all through, _

_ I know how this works, I will bargain with you.” _

_ “Uh, try if you want, but he made his own choice." _

_ “Hi! What’s going on!?” came in David’s high voice. _

_ Patrick breathed “David,” and reached for his hand _

_ “There’s something I don’t think you quite understand. _

_ There’s more to this town than what first meets the eye _

_ You don’t own a thing, what you signed was a lie. _

_ You’re trapped here for torture so this man can revel _

_ Hell is hell, David, and Hades, the devil.” _

_ Roland laughed: “Yeah, duh? Oh wow, good on you! _

_ That last bit, though- ah, that’s not technically true. _

_ The Devil’s a different guy, whole other book _

_ But otherwise- woah, Davey! What’s with that look? _

_ Oh come on, Dave! Don’t tell me you’ve been so blind, _

_ This Hell for your elegant self was designed! _

_ All that you valued and all you despised _

_ Were blueprints for building this world- you’re surprised? _

_ Those sweaters you fancy must weigh, like, a ton _

_ They’d sure be more comfy if not for our sun. _

_ If you’d change, then maybe the seasons would too _

_ See, Time here is weird and the reason is you. _

_ The moment you picked up the phone to come down, _

_ You settled your fate in this forsaken town. _

_ It’s all for you, and shall continue this way _

_ ’til some other rich prick decides to come stay _

_ And then you’ll join in entertaining that guy, _

_ Or woman, excuse me, I should clarify. _

_ Like Ronnie, before you- oh, we had some fun _

_ Chyeah! She was real happy your turn had begun.” _

_ David’s hands trembled as Patrick held tight _

_ “I’ve got this,” he comforted, “We’ll be alright. _

_There’s got to be some kind of loophole or flaw, _

_ I’ll find something wrong that he cannot ignore.” _

_ The contract was brought forth, he pored line by line _

_ Beheld with his own eyes that stylish Rose sign. _

_ Alas, ’twas in order, each term had been named _

_ Rash David’s agreement alone could be blamed. _

_ He’d thought that this process would be their salvation _

_ The day would be saved through his shrewd consultation. _

_ But rules that are written by evil can’t fail _

_ Its own weapons used in defense won’t prevail. _

_ So Patrick sat, head in his hands, hope in shreds. _

_ The demons assembled laughed, shaking their heads. _

_ Jocelyn spoke: “Well, this seems a darn shame. _

_ I heard he played music real nice when he came, _

_ So how ‘bout he stays here and sings for a while?” _

_ Roland whined: “That’s not as fun as exile!” _

_ “Oh Rolly,” she cooed, with a laugh in her tone, _

_ “The puppy's in love, why not throw ‘em a bone?” _

_ “Ugh, fine, sing for us. If I like it you stay _

_ But let’s make it fun: If I don’t, hmm, let’s say- _

_ Your Dave can swap this hell for something more dire... _

_ Eternally burning in brimstone and fire?” _

_ Patrick blanched “No-! That’s not, I-, that’s not fair.” _

_ Roland smirked “It’s a command, not a dare.” _

_ David took Patrick’s hands, nodded assent _

_ And smiled “I’m behind you, one hundred percent.” _

_ Then, summoned by Hades, a crowd soon drew near _

_ “Come stand with us, Davey,” he bid with a sneer. _

_ Jocelyn called out: “Whenever you’re ready!” _

_ Patrick breathed roughly, his hands were unsteady. _

_ He felt truly frightened, this all seemed so wrong _

_ His bargaining chip just the grace of his song. _

_ Not on his mind - on his art their fate rested _

_ He gripped his guitar and stood, scared to be tested. _

_ He looked up and choked back a gasp of confusion _

_ For Hades had conjured a taunting illusion. _

_ In vivid depiction of stakes in this game _

_ His David appeared to be lit up in flame. _

_ Bright orange and yellow licked over his chest, _

_ Where black, white and grey alone ever did rest. _

_ A jest meant to torment, but not a wise choice: _

_ An artist’s heart stirred simply spurs his best voice. _

_ Inspired and wired, Patrick started to sing _

_ An angel on tongue, muses on every string _

_ Voice warm with softness and rich with emotion _

_ Eyes on his subject with blazing devotion. _

_ The song was for David alone, basked in fire _

_ The words Patrick sung told of love and desire _

_ Repeating a phrase that spoke straight from his heart _

_He’d rather be dead than they be torn apart._

_ As strains faded, Roland’s round eyes were struck wide _

_ A shared tear was shed by his wife at his side. _

_ Yes, Hades, who tortured those he stood above - _

_ The man was a fiend, but he recognised love. _

_ He, too, would take death to save his dear wife, _

_ Were they to be bound to profane rules of life. _

_ He’d thought that their love, so divine, was unique _

_ He’d thought, til now, humans were simply too weak. _

_ “Wow,” Roland chuckled, “Well, way to go, pal, _

_ You want me to let you both go? Well, I shall.” _

_ The two lovers lit up, relieved and elated, _

_ Throughout the room, pure joy and hope radiated. _

_ But not all were happy their king had been moved _

_ Ronnie, who had much to lose, disapproved: _

_ “The way that he looks at him, though? It’s obscene, _

_ Indecent for that kind of thing to be seen.” _

_ Expertly, she makes it seem Roland’s idea: _

_ “One more of those looks and the tall one stays here.” _

_ Free then to go, but with one out in front. _

_ A test of their trust, and a fun little stunt. _

_ Agreement was made, though bizarre and absurd _

_ No looking, nor touching, nor voice to be heard _

_ Else David be damned once more, Patrick exiled. _

_ A contract was signed and officially filed. _

_ * _

_ They both knew that David would not want to lead _

_ So Patrick should guide if they were to succeed. _

_ Trusting his own heart had led him this far, _

_ This took trusting outward, beyond his guitar. _

_ To forge straight ahead without turning to look, _

_ He’d need now a page from his famed father’s book. _

_“Okay, David, I will lead on, you can follow._

_Caution be damned, for us, I’ll be Apollo.”_

_ Their journey would take them the way Patrick came, _

_ It’s here that he learned the green hill had a name. _

_ Divided in space but their efforts were joint _

_ In the hike to Hell’s border at Rattlesnake Point. _

_ He took his first step, his eyes firmly ahead _

_ The sounds all around him fell suddenly dead. _

_ Struck deaf for the walk, not a footstep was heard _

_ A vulture cried hawkish, but needn’t have stirred. _

_ Treacherous sticks paved the ground at his feet _

_ He cleared as he walked- David’s path would be neat. _

_ A wayward thorn sprang up and pierced his shoe _

_ A cruel arrow, pain shot his heart’s resolve through. _

_ Were David beside him the wound would grow small _

_ He’d comfort him, carry him, help heal it all. _

_ Alone, pain is selfish, brings fear back to mind, _

_ And up crept the first thought of looking behind. _

_ It argued compellingly, clear and repeated, _

_ And wouldn’t let up ’til all hope was defeated _

_ In heavy tense silence, his mind rang it loud: _

_ “Too easy, too easy, this can’t be allowed.” _

_ He knew for a fact that his David would follow, _

_ But what good was that if the contract was hollow? _

_ Hades was tricksy, vindictive and sleazy. _

_ How could one song change his cruel mind so easy? _

_ He wouldn’t just suddenly let them go free, _

_ There must be some catch Patrick couldn’t yet see _

_ A different reason to not look behind _

_ If he stayed staring straight, what worse would he find? _

_ He knew how these things worked, these systems and deals, _

_ There's always some underhand turning the wheels. _

_ And yet he'd let hope free his mind of its rule _

_ To be not exploited, nor played for a fool. _

_ Too easy, too easy, it can’t be allowed. _

_ Too easy, too easy, it can’t be allowed. _

_ A trap, (here his unheeded heart, for hope, yearned) _

_ It must be, it’s stupid to trust - so he turned. _

_ Convinced as he was that nought would meet his eyes, _

_ To see his fair David brought first fond surprise. _

_ A flash of pure sparkling bliss lit Patrick’s gaze, _

_ ’Til realisation shot sharp through the haze. _

_ It flung his eyes wide and contorted his brow _

_ His stare never fiercer than how it looked now. _

_ Expressive as ever, those artist eyes spoke _

_ Describing the pain of his heart as it broke. _

_ Clean lips gasped a circle as if they’d been burned, _

_ The smile they had started has never returned. _

_ The look was exquisite, for better or worse _

_ Alas, its existence alone was the curse. _

_ David’s own gaze was of calm resignation, _

_ Mere hints of tears on the cusp of formation. _

_ Patrick saw trembling through upper-lip stiffness, _

_ Stoic grief, and, worst of all this, forgiveness. _

_ Then gone. Disappeared. Now more lost than before. _

_Those helpless hands stretching toward his no more._

_ Along to the void fell his trod path and track, _

_ Intruders like Patrick would never get back. _

_ * _

_ So, sadly the tale ends, with truth to impart: _

_ See, art had changed not Hades’ mind, but his heart. _

_ And this Patrick learned, though too late, back above: _

_ Don’t let it be loss that reminds you to love. _

_ Alas, when we love, we all face that same fear _

_ Which led Patrick to the sad fate we saw here. _

_ That love’s so sublime, it just cannot be true _

_ That life would intend such a gift be for you. _

_ But truthfully, that’s the one thing life intends! _

_ Love, to and from us all, freely it sends. _

_ What keeps your gift from you is what’s in your head, _

_ The thoughts you let fill you with worries instead. _

_ But take heart - our world is not that of this tale, _

_ We have hope that in the end, our hearts won’t fail. _

_ Rarely does one mistake part us forever _

_ We can forgive, and start over together. _

_ And our hells, though Hell they seem, truly are not, _

_ They’re crucibles - changing us as they burn hot. _

_ We don’t melt, but grow, and learn what most we need _

_ We walk hand-in-hand when from our hells we’re freed. _

_* _

_*_

_*_

_(Before we do part, if you’re willing to stay _

_ There is, I admit, still a touch more to say. _

_ Hear, though I can’t promise all this will mend, _

_ What’s come of our artist since this story’s end: _

_Alone on the earth as he wandered again,_

_ Patrick, now wise, knew the place for his pain _

_ Embracing the risk for the chance to express, _

_ The sad songs he sang from his heart brought success. _

_ He sang pure as ever but couldn’t stand still _

_ He chased down his fame with a ravenous will. _

_ And then, when the money exceeded some sum, _

_ He stopped, and retreated from what he’d become. _

_ He vanished, indeed, like he’d wanted to hide, _

_ But truth could be found out if anyone tried _

_ His history tells it, _ _if you listen well_ _ — _

_ A search on this fated phrase: “Buy deed to Hell.”)_


End file.
